


The Morning Will Come

by randomprose



Series: The Morning Will Come [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys Kissing, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, M/M, Shotgunning, Smoking, Smoking to Cope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-14 14:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7176524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomprose/pseuds/randomprose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the months after the fall out, Kei spends his time 150% angry at the world, himself and Kageyama. In this time frame, he also meets Kuroo Tetsurou, who makes it easier even just a little bit, as he does a lot of self-reflection and eventually comes to terms with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tsukishima is still a ball of anger and misery here and Kuroo just honestly wants to take care of him.
> 
> Set during Tsukishima and Kageyama's fall out.

 

> _“You’d think as a friend you’d be happy for me seeing as I’m the only person putting up with you.”_
> 
> _“We’re not friends, Kageyama. We’re just two fucked up individuals who get wasted on the rooftop of a shitty building. We’re not friends.”_
> 
> _The sneer turns into a smirk, cold and humorless, as he drawls his words. Tobio is sure there’s more where that came from. Tsukishima isn’t exactly sparing when it comes to his biting words and his intentions to hurt but Tobio decides not to stick around to hear the rest._
> 
> _“You’re such a fucking asshole.”_
> 
> _“Tell me something I don’t know.”_

 

Kei met Kuroo Tetsurou after the fall out.

It was in the university library where Kuroo tripped, fell and took Kei down with him along with both their combined very heavy reference books, two of which landed on Kei’s stomach gutting and knocking the breath out of him. Kuroo’s apology came in the form of attempting to help Kei up (which he rightfully refused in favour of shooting him the foulest glare he can muster) and then assuming, since Kei didn’t whack him upside the head with the reference book he was holding, that it was an invitation to sit with him at his table. Kei glared at him, naturally, and tried to bore a hole on his forehead through his ridiculous hair but alas, the boy seems either immune or just plain dense. Eventually, Kei decided that it wasn’t worth the effort and went back to doing his report.

And then he started talking.

His name is Kuroo Tetsurou, he said, and he’s really sorry for bumping into Kei earlier—well, sorry for bumping and pulling him down. He’s a third year pre-law student and the course work is killing him but he likes it so it’s all good. He’s on the university volleyball team, a starting player as a middle blocker. Volleyball is the love of his life and he would’ve gone pro but then he thought better and decided to go into law instead. And he’s really, really sorry about earlier and if there’s anything he can do to make it up to him Kei just have to tell.

He continued to prattle on about other things Kei didn’t care to hear about. Kei successfully ignored him for at least ten minutes before Kuroo started rambling about his wretched course work and how he still has volleyball practice later.

When Kuroo started to ask him questions about his major and _‘do you like sports? what sport do you play? how about volleyball? do you like volleyball?’_ Kei hurriedly packed his things and stood. He gritted his teeth as he pushed his chair back and didn’t even care at the loud screeching sound it made. He heard Kuroo asking him where he’s going as he walked away and out of the library.

He never liked loud, talkative people who talk unnecessarily about things he didn’t really care about. Well, Kei never really liked talking and people and Kuroo Tetsurou talked about things that made Kei remember why he was 150% angry at the world and _fuck_ he badly needed a smoke.

The point is, Kei met Kuroo Tetsurou at a point in his life where he is nothing but a tight ball of compressed fury—part at the world, part at life, but mostly at himself—and he didn’t think much about him other than just a passing nuisance until he wasn’t.

 

* * *

 

Kei was right about the nuisance part except Kuroo Tetsurou isn’t just someone passing.

It’s the fifth time in two weeks that someone is already sitting on his table when he got to the library. Someone with the most ridiculous hair Kei has ever seen and who seems to think it’s okay to sit and talk to him just because he hasn’t done anything to maim them yet.

Kei considers just switching tables. It’s easier of course and he wouldn’t have to deal with the loud mouthed annoyance anymore, but Kei really likes that particular space and with good reason too. It’s on the part of the library where not much of the students go because it’s too far out from the common areas where most popular reference materials are placed. It’s tucked on the farthest end wall of the library behind the shelves of law and medicine tomes probably ancient enough to be as old as Aristotle and Hippocrates themselves. It’s quiet and right beside the big glass windows and sometimes Kei likes to take naps when the sunlight hits the glasses just right and the warm sunlight filters in.

He knows it’s not his and he couldn’t keep other students from occupying it but as far as he knows nobody ever sits there. And Kei’s been sitting in that place since he started in the university and has considered it his own. Kei has always been big on personal space and territory and when he’s claimed his place he refuses to let it go. He already gave up the rooftop, he’s not gonna let this one go. No matter how superficial and petty that sounded even to him.

So, no he is not going to move and let that annoying mop head get his favourite library spot.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” Kuroo says as soon as Kei pulls out the chair in front of him. The grin on his face is wide and Kei scowls in response.

He takes his books and notes out of his backpack to start working and puts his headphones on as soon as Kuroo opens his mouth to undoubtedly start talking again. Clearly the messy haired boy plans to stay and if Kei couldn’t make him go then he’s just gonna have to ignore him.

When ten minutes have passed and he has failed to listen to the past three songs or had any of his notes actually gone to his brain, Kei has had enough. Kuroo is waving his hand in front of him for the past fifteen seconds clearly trying to get his attention. Kei’s hand darts out to grasp at Kuroo’s wrist in what he hopes is a bruising grip and pulls his headphones down.

_“What.”_

Kuroo just blinks and grins at him and Kei just honestly want to light him on fire.

“I was saying that this is the fifth time we’ve met and I still don’t know your name. I mean, you already know my name. I remember I told you the first time, but in case you forgot I’m Ku—"

“Kuroo Tetsurou, third year pre-law, volleyball team middle blocker. Yes, I know, I remember.”

Kei belatedly realizes that probably wasn’t a good response because it only served to encourage Kuroo as his face lit up.

“Great! You know me. So, you know, it would be great if I know your name too.”

“I don’t need to tell you anything and I don’t want to.”

“Oh, come on, Glasses! Don’t be like that. We’re practically study buddies! And—“

“If I tell you will you shut up and stop talking to me?”

“Yes.”

Somehow Kei doubts that.

“Tsukishima Kei.”

Kuroo looks at him expectantly and Kei stares back.

“And? That’s it? I told you tons of things about me!”

“Well, I never ask for them. The deal was just me telling my name. Now shut up so I can study.”

Kuroo shoots him a disbelieving look but doesn’t talk for the rest of the time he was there. Kei didn’t know why but the smile never left the boy’s face.

 

* * *

 

Despite not having any interest on his major Kei still studies and strives for decent grades.

He spends his time in the university library reading and trying his best to master the equations and theories, tries his best to put them in his head despite practically his whole system screaming at him to _stop_. When things get really hard and Kei feels like tearing all his reference materials to pieces because his brain just _refuses_ to digest any information on the course work, he packs his things and goes to the back of the building for a smoke.

Kei walks towards the vending machine behind the library building and pushes the button for a can of iced coffee. For some reason, he can no longer enjoy a smoke without having to accompany it with cold coffee.

(That’s what he’d like to think but of course he knows why. He just ignores it like the way he ignores the niggling voice in his mind saying the iced coffee lacks something.)

He leans on the building, a leg bended at the knees to braise against it as he cups a hand around a cigarette and lights it. He takes a drag, tilts his head back on the white concrete, exhales.

And because his brain seems to reflect his foul personality, this is the part where his thoughts unwittingly revert to Kageyama—the two of them sitting on that rooftop on cold mornings and Friday nights, the smoke of the cigarette between them.

He bites into his filter in annoyance.

He hasn’t been in the rooftop in a week because he has a feeling Kageyama will be there, waiting with his stupid cold coffee and it irritates him further because he was the first one there. That rooftop was his place and now he couldn’t even go up there without thinking of the possibility of Kageyama being there.

And Kei doesn’t think he can be on the same space as him without wanting to do some damage.

God, this is pathetic. What was the saying? Misery loves company? Oh, it loves it alright. And Kei is angry because Kageyama left him high and dry. Because Kei is selfish and seeing Kageyama doing better while he’s still stuck in a rut makes his skin crawl. He’s been in that place longer; he should’ve been the first one out. Or they could’ve just stayed there, whatever works. Just not this. Not Kei still itching for a smoke every time he thinks he’s gonna start having trouble breathing, not Kei waking up and wondering how he’s gonna get through the day, not Kei still rather gutting himself than go to class, not Kei feeling sick every time he even thinks of even touching the course work while Kageyama is running around the university gym with that short ginger kid, a smile on his face, electric blue eyes alive and shining as he hold a volleyball in his hands.

Kei finishes his first smoke, reaches for another one and lights it up. He leans on the building, tilting his head as he exhales upwards, the smoke and his breath mixing due to the cold and he watches a little mesmerized.

 

* * *

 

Since he can’t go up the rooftop anymore, these days Kei opts to go out to get wasted.

Where he goes varies. The usual house parties keep him busy. There’s always a party somewhere some time if you know how to look. Sometimes when he’s in a particularly destructive mood, he goes to clubs and downs shot after shot after shot until he can’t see straight and the bodies grinding against him on the dance floor doesn’t bother him anymore. A glass or two more and the hands roaming around his body by people he won’t even remember by the time he’s out of the club are welcomed. But on Friday nights, there’s a particular bar he likes to go just outside of campus.

It’s small and doesn’t get frequented much by college kids but has enough patrons to fill the place on weekends. Kei sits by the counter and orders their cheapest vodka on the bottom shelf. Once or twice he’s treated to the expensive stuff on the top most shelves by people looking for an easy fuck. Kei lets them buy him a drink and smirks because, really, all they had to do was ask. So long as they don’t stop for much chitchat and ask for his number in the morning Kei is down for anything. Most of the time though he just wants to get wasted. Tonight is one of those nights.

Kei is on his—what, his seventh drink? He doesn’t know and frankly doesn’t really give a fuck. He’s seeing double and a lazy smile is tugging at the corner of his lips as the bartender puts another glass in front of him. Kei raises the glass as if in salute before downing the glass in one go.

“You know, I think you’ve had enough for the night. I’m gonna have to cut you off. For your own good.”

Kei furrows his eyebrows because what the fuck is this guy talking about? Also, why does his voice sound familiar? It sounds so…annoying to Kei and yet—and yet really, really nice. Still, he doesn’t like what this guy is saying and he is gonna let him know.

He opens his mouth to tell the guy where to shove it but his vision swirls as he looks up and he is falling, falling backward and then the world is black.

 

* * *

 

The next day Kei wakes up in another unfamiliar bed in another unfamiliar bedroom.

What is this, like the third time in a week? And what time is it? Is it a weekday? Did he miss a class? Fuck, as if he cares. His head is pounding and his mouth tastes like puke and stale vodka. To think he should be used to this and yet here he is crippled by another hangover. Strange thing is his body doesn’t hurt at all and usually he wouldn’t have a hangover if he got thoroughly fucked the night before. Does that mean he went home with some stranger and didn’t even do anything?

All this thinking is making his headache fucking worse.

“What the fucking fuck,” Kei grunts as he turns to his stomach, “what the fucking fuck _fuck_.”

Kei buries his face on a pillow. He inhales and thinks why the hell do these sheets smell familiar, like some strong cologne he’s smelled somewhere—

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

Ah, fuck. That’s why.

“Fuck.”

“Hangover? Yeah, that shit’s a bitch. You were pretty much asking for it last night though.”

Of course, as if his life couldn’t be any worst, out of all the places he could’ve landed himself, it’s Kuroo Tetsurou’s apartment he is in with a fucking hangover.

Kei turns to his back and forces himself to sit up even if his brain practically screamed profanities at him by doing so. He blinks and squints at Kuroo’s blurry figure leaning on the doorframe of his bedroom door. Where the fuck are his glasses?

Kuroo seems to get it and nods his head to his bedside table. Kei gets the hint and reaches for them. He can finally see the infuriating smirk on Kuroo’s lips and _God_ did his headache just got worst or what.

“Where the fuck am I and what the fuck am I doing here?” He asks and when he sees that Kuroo is shirtless with only a pair of loose sweatpants on, he looks down and sees that he is also shirtless _and_ pantless. “Did we do anything? Last night, did we—?“

“Fucked? Nah. You blacked out after your ninth drink and almost tipped back the bar stool and hit your head. Good thing I caught you before your ass completely slipped though. You puked on your shirt on the way and thank _fuck_ you didn’t decide to do that on the bed. Then I figured sleeping with jeans on will be uncomfortable as hell and you wouldn’t want that since you’d already be hung over in the morning so I took the liberty of taking them off for you. You’re in my place by the way if you haven’t already figured that out. We didn’t do anything I swear.”

Kei is hung over and confused as he stares at Kuroo and tries to take in what he just said. From what he’s saying it sounds like he took Kei home and let him crash on his bed but why the fuck would he do that? He doesn’t understand why Kuroo would do all this.

“Do you need aspirin? I think I have some in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Oh, and there’s coffee in the kitchen if you—

“Why are you doing this?

Because there has got to be some ulterior motive. Why would Kuroo do all this for someone he barely knew and doesn’t even try to be civil with him?

“Well, I—

“Is it to get in my pants? A quick fuck, is that it? Because you can just say so you know. I’m gonna say no anyway and you can stop all this.”

“I—that’s not—we’re friends! It’s what friends do.”

“Are we?”

“I mean, if you want to.”

“I don’t.”

This made Kuroo start and Kei is reminded of a similar conversation—different words, different place, different person, same sentiments. Even the look of surprise and hurt in Kuroo’s eyes is familiar and Kei smirks in revelry at this, at the irony and the vague feeling of déjà vu. Kei’s next words come out like a practiced speech.

“Just because we happen to sit at the same library table thrice a week, doesn’t make us friends. We barely even know each other. I just happened to be stupid enough to get myself inebriated to the point of incapacity and you’re the bigger idiot for thinking it’s your responsibility to take care of me instead of leaving me the fuck alone like I’ve been telling you to.”

Kuroo makes a face at him, the look of surprise and hurt gone replaced with frustration and irritation. He sighs as if in exasperation as he runs a hand through his face and hair. He looks at Kei with his brows furrowed with a slight scowl looking genuinely distraught and Kei thinks the look is unbecoming of him.

“Why do you—what do you have against people wanting to be your friend?”

Well, why would Kei want to be friends with people? And why would they want to be Kei’s friend in the first place? The answer to Kuroo’s question is easy enough.

“Because people are troublesome, Kuroo. They’re only there when they need something from you. They lie and leave and pretend they didn’t do anything wrong.”

Kei didn’t mean to say anything, didn’t mean to expose himself and look anymore pathetic than he already is right now. But he’s hung over and his head is killing him and Kuroo is asking the stupidest questions— _again_ like he always, _always_ does—and Kei needs him to _shut the fuck up._

Kuroo stares at him and Kei doesn’t like the look he gives him—pitying and like he understands, as if he understands.

“Not everyone is a horrible person, Tsukishima. There isn’t always an ulterior motive. Some of us genuinely care.”

Kuroo turns to leave the room and Kei is left with an even bigger headache. What the fuck is up with Kuroo? Why and how does he always manage to mess with his head? How does one even deal with such situations?

If Kei is being honest he doesn’t really think Kuroo is a bad guy. He’s annoying and a nuisance and talks too much and has shifty as fuck eyes and an infuriating smirk that makes him look like he’s always up to no good. Kuroo confuses him and it irritates Kei to no end that he can’t seem to read Kuroo because there has to be a catch. No one does the things Kuroo does just because they’re nice. _There has to be a catch_.

But he sits with Kei in the library and smiles and talks to him even though Kei doesn’t. He took Kei home to his place, took care of his drunken ass and doesn’t try anything.

And he considers Kei his friend.

What a joke, honestly.

And he’s an even bigger joke for what he is about to do.

Kei sighs as he throws the covers off of him and looks for his pants. He shuffles out of Kuroo’s bedroom still shirtless and sees him reading a newspaper in his small kitchen. Kei rolls his eyes at the sight as he makes his way and pulls the chair opposite.

“Okay.”

Kuroo doesn’t put down the newspaper nor does he look at him. Kei clenches his jaw and swallows.

“I said okay.”

“Hmm?” Kuroo hums still not putting down the paper but his eyes shifts to Kei. “Okay what?”

This fucking asshole, Kei thinks as he grits his teeth in annoyance. He wants to snatch the paper, roll in and smack the bastard across the face.

“Okay we can be friends.”

This time Kuroo puts down the newspaper and sighs dramatically.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? All you need to do is ask. No need to beg, Tsukki, of course I’ll be your friend.”

He smiles at Kei before standing up and walking to where the coffee maker is. Kei watches his back, eyes narrowed in a glare.

“You’re an ass.”

“Thank you. I think you’re an ass too and we’ll get along swimmingly. Coffee?”

 

* * *

  

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Kei opens his eyes at the familiar voice. He’s at the back of the library again, leaning against the building with his head tilted back. He lifts it to turn and look at a smirking Kuroo, arms crossed over his chest and his bag slung on a shoulder.

“Kuroo.” He greets with a slight nod.

“Hey, Tsukki.” Kuroo ignores his frown at the name like he always does. “Saw you smoking here once. Didn’t see you inside so I thought you might be here.”

“I finished early.” His brain refused to absorb anything on his readings earlier than usual and there’s no use forcing it without him snapping.

Kuroo hums. “I’m starving. Did you have lunch already?”

Kei lifts up the can of iced coffee in his hands, the tips of his long fingers holding onto the top, and shakes it a bit.

“Is that—are you seriously drinking iced coffee? In fucking winter?”

Kei shrugs as if to say ‘why not?’ before taking a drag.

“Lunch. Have you eaten lunch yet?”

“I’m fine, Kuroo-san.”

The older boy stares and then Kei watches as his eyes scans his lean figure before his eyes shifts to the cigarette on his one hand and the iced coffee on the other. He watches as something like realization shows in Kuroo’s eyes before narrowing in disbelief.

“Oh, for fucks sakes.”

Kei isn’t quite sure what happened, but the next thing he knows Kuroo has snatched his cigarette and iced coffee and threw them in the bins beside them. He vaguely registers the appalled look Kuroo shoots him before he is being dragged to—he is not quite sure where. Kei is too shocked to protest and ask where the hell Kuroo is taking him. The fact that Kuroo’s hand around his wrist is warm (he’s not wearing any gloves and he thinks Kei is being ridiculous for drinking iced beverages in winter?) is distracting and is the only thing that Kei’s addled brain would concentrate on.

Kuroo drags him to the university cafeteria. He pushes him down on one of the tables before sauntering away to god-knows-where. He is ready to throttle Kuroo as soon as he sat down if not for the fact that the first thing that registers in Kei’s mind is how quickly he felt the loss of the warmth around his wrist. It takes him some time to process this but when his brain has recovered and is back to its coherent state, he is ready to end Kuroo as soon as he gets back. He doesn’t get the chance though because Kuroo places a tray of food in front of him – rice, chicken cutlets, mixed vegetables, a fruit cup and…is that a container of strawberry shortcake? – and his glare lets up.

Kuroo has broken his chopsticks unevenly as he catches him staring at the strawberry shortcake. He shoots Kei a winning smile as if he is proud of himself about something.

“You like strawberry shortcake, right? Saw you eating one last week outside the library. Thought you might like it so I fought tooth and nail for the last one. I might get wrecked on my peer review court simulation exercise later by the upperclassman I just snatched it off of but it was worth it.”

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Nah. You can pay next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, next time.”

“What makes you think there will be a next time?”

“Oh, there will be a next time.” Kuroo says in a tone like he’s appalled Kei even thinks there won’t be. “Has anybody ever told you you’re so unnaturally skinny? Well, you are and it’s a bit alarming. I plan to make sure you eat a proper meal at least once a day.”

Kei stares back at him not sure what to say. Kuroo just smirks and tells him to start eating before his food gets cold. Kei lets him have a bite of his strawberry shortcake but swats his hand when he tries to go for another.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Tsukki!”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“And I told you, ‘Tsukishima’ is such a mouthful you know? I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.“

“And I feel like I’ve told you to leave me the hell alone a million times and yet here we are.”

The first time Kuroo called him ‘Tsukki’ Kei felt irrational anger bubble up inside him. He told Kuroo not to call him that in his most acerbic tone and ignored him for the whole day. Kuroo didn’t listen though and probably chalked it up to Kei’s normal foul attitude. He still kept calling him ‘Tsukki’ and at one point Kei snapped and just avoided him altogether. It lasted all of three days before Kuroo sat down in front of him at the library again, sighed and apologized.

“Look, if you really hate it that much I’ll stop, okay? Just…just stop ignoring me already.”

Kei shot back with a “When do I ever not ignore you?” and that was that.

It was followed by a series of Kuroo almost always butchering his name. A lot of ‘Tsuki—shima’ where the second syllable of his name is said too long or Kuroo having to repeat his name from the start. Once, he slipped and Kei watched as he winced before hastily apologizing.

It’s not that Kei hates the nickname. It’s just that there was ever only one person who called him that and it brings back so many memories that he’d rather not think about. And it doesn’t help that every time Kuroo says it, Kei’s mind is assaulted of freckles and soggy fries and strawberry milkshakes in a suburban backyard on warm afternoons. They were fond memories but Kei doesn’t think there’s room for fond memories in his life right now.

Still, he takes pity on Kuroo and the next time he slips and calls him ‘Tsukki’ Kei just sighs and tells him not to call him that with no real venom.

Kuroo takes the hint (and this is one of the things that Kei finds odd about Kuroo, his ability to just always – _always_ – get it) so now he’s back to being ‘Tsukki’ from ‘Tsuki—shima.’ He eventually learns to live with it although still telling Kuroo to quit calling him that just to keep appearances.

 

* * *

 

On a particularly bad day, Kuroo finds Kei in the most secluded part of the library, behind the dusty shelves with the really thick reference tomes that no one ever bothers to look at anymore, curled in on himself on the floor, breathing heavy, glasses blurry from the tears and trying to contain his pathetic sobs.

Kei is too busy trying and failing to calm himself that he doesn’t notice the older boy’s presence. He doesn’t notice Kuroo rapidly approaching and kneeling beside him nor the brief panic that flashed in his eyes. Kei doesn’t hear him call his name in an urgent whisper before he carefully takes Kei’s glasses off and sets them atop the first level of a shelf. He can only vaguely register that Kuroo is moving him, lifting him up easily like he weighs nothing and then settling him in some kind of a kneeling position. Kei can’t stop dry heaving and he can’t see shit without his glasses and the fucking tears in his eyes. He feels something draped over him and then lean arms envelope him. There is a warm weight pressing on his back and he feels a warm breath beside his right ear. Kuroo’s voice is calling his name and whispering ‘everything is gonna be fine’ over and over like a mantra.

“Tsukki? Tsukki, can you hear me? Listen, everything is gonna be alright.”

He didn’t know how much time passed but eventually, he calms down and the tears stops and he can breathe normally again. Kuroo’s arms are still around him. Kei’s back is still pressed against Kuroo’s chest and his breath is still warm on Kei’s neck. He allows himself to be wrapped by Kuroo for a little longer, allows himself to soak up the warmth and comfort radiating from the older boy before he lightly shifts.

Kuroo gets the message and slowly lifts himself off Kei though his arms are still loosely draped around him. Kei slowly gets up himself and realizes the thing draped around him is Kuroo’s varsity jacket. It’s a couple of sizes bigger than Kei’s frame and smells like Kuroo—like sweat, the deodorant he uses, the smell of winter and _Kuroo_. He pulls it tighter around himself.

“You alright now?”

Kei swallows and nods lightly. “How…how did you know how to do that?”

“Ah, well. My childhood best friend has anxiety attacks sometimes. He used to always get them when we were younger so I read a bit about it and figured out how to help him deal with it. Got a lot of practice back then, too.”

“I see.”

“He doesn’t get them much now. Just when he’s really stressed. Hey, maybe I’ll introduce you guys some time.”

They were silent then, neither moving from their positions. Kei is still slightly hunched over between Kuroo’s legs clutching the jacket around him and Kuroo’s arms are still loosely draped around Kei’s waist. The blonde could feel the warmth radiating off of Kuroo on his back with their proximity. He would’ve leaned back if he didn’t already feel so pathetic. But Kuroo seems to really know what to do because he takes the initiative and pulls Kei against his chest as he leans back on the wall. Kei sighs and lets himself be pulled, not the least bit minding the tightening of Kuroo’s arms on his waist and the head resting atop his own.

“Thank you. For helping me.” Kei whispers just enough for Kuroo to hear. He’s never had anyone help him through that before. He usually just rides them off by himself and it takes a long while before he can calm down.

Kuroo just hums, his head on top of blond curls, and Kei could feel the vibrations on his back as he closes his eyes. Later, he would chalk it up as a moment of vulnerability but for now this is nice.

 

* * *

 

Kei met Kuroo’s friends exactly forty five minutes before they all got kicked out of the library.

The two of them were just sitting together, for once Kuroo’s not babbling about something or other, when two strangers suddenly appeared out of nowhere and decides to sit with them.

“Who’s your prof for Philo 102? Mine is Satan himself in the form of Professor Yamada. I think I’m gonna change class.”

“Hey hey hey, Kuroo! Miterashi’s having a party at his place later and you know how he always has the best booze! We have to go!”

Kei looks up from his notes to find two new people at his table and wonders why the hell do people suddenly think it’s okay to sit with him. He knew he should’ve worked harder to get Kuroo to leave him the fuck alone.

For his part, Kuroo looks completely affronted as he stares at them like they’ve just personally offended him.

“The fuck are you guys doing here?”

The next half hour is spent with the two newcomers introducing themselves and Kei reluctantly introducing himself. Their names are Bokuto Koutarou and Akaashi Keiji. Bokuto and Kuroo knew each other since middle school, their team being volleyball rivals. They met Akaashi in high school when he joined Bokuto’s team and they’ve all been friends since. Then they asks Kei questions (mostly Bokuto), just mundane ones that Kei thinks are bothersome but answers nonetheless out of politeness. Kuroo keeps on interrupting them and making them leave but they easily brush him off. Kei starts to get annoyed halfway through and was just about to shut them up when the librarian approached them and did it herself. Never mind that Kei was innocent and wasn’t the one making the ruckus.

By the time they were out the library Kei is pissed and ready to walk away when a gentle hand was laid on his shoulder. He half expects it to be Kuroo’s, apology at the ready as Kei saw him shooting him apologetic looks as they got escorted out, but it was actually Akaashi’s.

“Hey, sorry about that. I know a place we can study. It’s just near here and they serve great coffee. It’s on me. It’s the least I could do for being part the reason we got kicked out.”

Next thing Kei knew he was sitting at the coffee shop at the corner of the university’s courtyard munching on a strawberry muffin and sipping the best damn coffee he’s ever had in his life. Akaashi works at the coffee shop so they get free refills. Kei finds out that Bokuto is a statistics major and Akaashi is a literature major and when he mentions that he used to play volleyball back in high school he gets an invitation to play with them on their days off. He didn’t get any more studying done but he did get Bokuto and Akaashi’s number and an invitation to hang out again and somehow he’s okay with that.

When it was time to go, Kuroo looks all sheepish as the two of them walk to each of their next classes. Before parting to go their separate buildings (Kuroo is headed to the Faculty of Law building and Kei to the Engineering labs), Kuroo turns to him and apologizes for his friends getting them kicked out of the library and getting roped into all that.

“It’s fine. I…I had fun.” Kei says and actually means it.

Kuroo looks at him with something like relief and says, “That’s great. I’m glad.”

Kei watches the smile spread on Kuroo’s face and thinks that he’s glad too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo and Tsukishima just breaks me every time. I cry.
> 
> Also, if you're not a new reader and you've read this work before, I changed the quote on the first chapter and put the initial quote I used there in this chapter so you might read a repeated quote here. I just thought putting the fight dialogue of Tsukishima and Kageyama in the first chapter is more appropriate and their reconciliation dialogue here. Apologies for any confusion on that.

Kuroo brings him coffee on Friday afternoons. It reminds Kei of the rooftop and volleyball, a familiar scowl and chapped lips.

And because Kei has been conditioned to a certain type of coffee for the past couple of months, he doesn’t drink his coffee like normal people do on winters or even just in general. He waits until the steam is completely gone, waits a little more until it’s past lukewarm and until it reaches a temperature when he can down it all in one gulp like water.

Naturally, Kuroo noticed this and one day he asked, “Aren’t you gonna drink your coffee? You know, to warm you up?”

Kei blinked at him, slightly confused at the question as if drinking hot coffee is a foreign concept that he’s never heard of, before remembering that people normally don’t consume their coffee cold, stale and spiked with alcohol. He looked back down at his notes and said, “I prefer to drink my coffee cold.”

And with a dash of vodka but Kuroo doesn't need to know that.

That was before he started frequently hanging out with Kuroo and his friends outside of the library. Nowadays, when Kuroo brings him coffee from the coffee shop Akaashi works at, Kei takes the cup in his hands, lets the heat radiating off the cup to warm his hands as he blows the steam away to cool it down a little before he takes tentative sips. It’s been awhile since he’s drank his coffee like this instead of downing it in three gulps. He’s found he quite likes it with three shots of cream and two sugar cubes and for awhile Kei forgets that he prefers drinking his coffee cold, stale and with a dash of vodka.

Kuroo teases him about it.

“You still prefer drinking your coffee cold or?”

Kei scowls at the smug smirk on the other boy’s face as he accepts his coffee and shoves at Kuroo. The latter just laughs as Kei takes a sip and relishes as the hot liquid warms him up.

He stops, blinks and takes another sip. It tastes different today. Did Kuroo mixed it up?

“The coffee’s great right? I mean, it always is ‘coz it’s from best coffee place in the campus after all. But Kenma made it and he’s like really good at making drinks. He’s the best barista here. Don’t tell Akaashi I said that. Or Bokuto. Hmm…now that I think about it Akaashi’s coffees are pretty fucking amazing too.”

While Kuroo prattles on about the comparisons of the two baristas’ coffee, Tsukishima just looks down at his cup. The warmth from the cup seeping through his gloves and the aroma of the rich brown liquid inside is heavenly but Kei’s mind is elsewhere.

He remembers cold Friday nights and the cold pavement against his back. The taste of stale coffee mixed with cheap vodka, the burn it makes down his throat despite its temperature and the pleasant buzz in his head after just a couple of sips. He never could get that from the coffee shop’s coffee no matter how amazing it tastes.

Kei must’ve been staring at the Styrofoam cup for a long time because Kuroo stops talking and is looking at him questioningly—worriedly?

“Tsukki? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did you not like it? It’s three shots of cream and three sugars, right? Or…oh, shit! Three shots of cream and _two_ sugars! Argh! How can I forget?!”

Ah, so that’s it. Maybe.

“It’s fine; it doesn’t matter. The coffee’s always great anyway, thanks.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Tsukki?”

“Tch. I said I’m fine and for the last time stop calling me that ridiculous name.”

This seems enough to reassure Kuroo as he sticks his tongue at him after a very immature ‘never!’ before laughing and continuing talking.

The coffee is great but sometimes, Kei admits, he remembers he prefers his coffee cold and stale with a dash of vodka and thinks he probably always will.

 

* * *

 

Bokuto and Kuroo are on the university volleyball team and Kei remembers who else is.

Once when they were having lunch he asks them if they know a Kageyama Tobio and they told him the story of how he was temporarily kicked off the team because of a feud with their official setter and the fact that no one can match his tosses.

“Always too fast and a little bit high. No one can really spike ‘em right. Sick as fuck tosses though. Too precise and quick it’s almost scary,” Bokuto says. “I didn’t get the chance to get used to it but I bet I could’ve spiked it real good!”

They talked of a particular nasty match where the team lost because some of the spikers just refused to cooperate with him all out. They said that it wasn’t fair that Kageyama was the only one punished as every one of them on the court that day was to blame. It’s also unfair because it’s not like they spend a lot of practice with him as a setter. They only ever practice all the time with Oikawa for God’s sakes. Kageyama mostly practices with the second string team, of course the first strings are not used to his tosses. And the kid probably doesn’t know the first strings’ preference in tosses that much either. Then again, there were rumours that implied Kageyama and the second string spikers don’t get along well either but Bokuto and Kuroo are not quite sure being first string players themselves.

Kei remembers the name. He thinks Kageyama has mentioned the name Oikawa in passing.

“But,” Kuroo says “Kageyama’s back now and he’s always with this shrimp we just recruited who’s super fast and can jump _ridiculously_ high.”

Kuroo talks about how the shrimp (who Kei deduced is the ginger kid Kageyama’s been running around with) and Kageyama has this _‘super cool really freaky fast move no one else can do Bokuto is actually jealous.’_

“Why? You know him?”

“No.”

“Ehh? Then how come you know his name? What? You a fan of him?”

“ _Oh, God, no._ ”

“Fine, fine. Calm down. We were just asking.”

Kuroo drops it at that and they went back to eating their lunch. Kei thinks how it’s unfair of him to get all that information and he won’t even give them a civil answer. That’s not what friends do is it?

(Friends. The concept is still foreign to him but Kuroo, Bokuto and Akaashi always insist that they are friends so he guesses they are.)

“No reason. He’s an acquaintance so I guess I just got curious.”

Technically that’s not a lie and by the nods and the shrugs of his companions this seems like a good enough answer.

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, Kuroo works part time at the bar Kei likes to frequent outside of university. On Friday nights, he and Kei go out the back to smoke a stick or two. Sometimes before his shift; sometimes after, when they’re both hammered and stumbling out the back door.

And sometimes they let the smoke travel between the two of them.

Kuroo doesn’t cough and choke like Kageyama. Kei is torn between annoyance and being pleased.

He’s annoyed because Kei is a sadistic asshole and he likes it when people choke and cough and can’t take it. He likes to watch them sputter, likes the power he has over them as he smirks at teary eyes and the frantic catching of breaths behind the haze of smoke and he wants to see that same expression on Kuroo’s overly smug one for a change. But on the other hand, he is also pleased because it’s undoubtedly more satisfying when he doesn’t have to stop and wait for the other to stop coughing.

Shotgunning with Kuroo is easy, smooth, and if Kei is being honest, maybe even a little bit hot.

The way Kuroo sucks in the smoke when they part, lets it travel down his lungs, before exhaling slowly with half hooded eyes dazedly staring at Kei from where he’s leaning against the brick walls at the back of the bar, his body and posture relaxed in a slouch. It’s mesmerizingly sensual and Kei always looks up to a lazy smirk behind the haze of smoke and nicotine.

“My turn.”

Kuroo takes a drag before he pushes himself off the wall leaning close. He cradles Kei’s cheek in one hand as their lips nearly touch and Kuroo blows smoke in his mouth.

Kei greedily inhales the smoke and savours the burning in his lungs, the smoke hot on his tongue, still watching Kuroo’s lazy smirk over the smoke and haze.

And then it becomes something else, something more, and something that Kei feels familiar with but also not.

Kei doesn’t know who kissed who first but there is a hand on the small of his back while another is on his nape. His back hits the cold brick wall of the bar and he could feel the cold seeping through his coat as Kuroo pushes him against it. There isn’t a haze of smoke surrounding them. Kei doesn’t smell the familiar scent of nicotine and the burn in his lungs is for an entirely different reasons.

He feels lips slanting over his and Kei remembers chapped lips against his own once and how different they are compared to Kuroo’s soft ones. Kei is used to angry and violent bruising kisses and for a long time it’s the only way he knows how.

But Kuroo’s are gentle and almost fragile in the way he coaxes Kei’s tongue with his own like he’s testing the waters, like he doesn’t want to scare Kei away. He presses their lips harder and Kuroo’s kiss turns aggressive, passionate and eager in a way that doesn’t make Kei feel like he wants to push back.

Kuroo’s kisses are hot, almost searing, just enough to drive Kei to the edge wanting, always wanting. His hands are gentle as they move to cradle Kei’s face and rub mindless soothing circles on his burning cheeks. Kuroo licks a line on his lips and Kei opens his mouth compliantly. Their tongues meet and Kei tastes the remnants of the strawberry daiquiri they had earlier and starts to feel slightly dizzy as he clutches at the other’s shirt. Kuroo bites Kei’s lower lip, nibbles on it as he pulls and sucks and Kei remembers a time when somebody else’s teeth was on his bottom lip, remembers tasting blood and his grip on Kuroo’s shirt tightens.

They part for air and Kei would’ve controlled his breathing if he wasn’t so captivated by the look on the other boy’s eyes. It’s like he wants to devour Kei. It causes a delicious shiver to run down his spine and yet at the same time it fills him with an inexplicable warm. Kei didn’t know that was possible until Kuroo set his eyes on him.

Kuroo pull him for another kiss and swallows Kei’s surprised gasp as their lips met yet again and this time, this time there is no blood.

 

* * *

 

He tells Kuroo everything he couldn’t say to Kageyama. Kuroo just listens and Kei doesn’t know if he really does or he’s just pretending to but he really doesn’t care. If he does then it’s good that he knows that Kei doesn’t need any words. If he doesn’t then it’s fine as well, all the better even, because he just needs someone to run his mouth to so he doesn’t look like an lunatic. Talking to himself is just stupid and it’s just gonna drive him further up the wall he thinks.

Talking to Kuroo is different than talking to Kageyama. Actually, Kageyama and Kei don’t talk, period. They had that one brief half drunken sharing of what fucked them up and how fucked they are and that was it. Kageyama and Kei don’t talk. Kageyama and Kei sit on their building’s rooftop on odd days and Friday nights to get wasted and sip cold coffees spiked with cheap alcohol. They smoke Kei’s cigarettes, occasionally shotgunning and almost always leading to their lips and hands on each other – biting and bruising, drunk on cheap vodka and misery.

Talking to Kuroo is…different, for a lack of a better word. They have a routine. Kuroo always speaks first and Kei follows after. There’s always a smile or a grin or a smirk before he opens his mouth and says, “Hey, Tsukki. What’s up?”and Kei will follow with a “Don’t call me that” scowl in place and a sigh on his lips. The smirk doesn’t leave Kuroo’s face as he proceeds to chatter on about his day, his classes, his work and his friends and then he proceeds to ask Kei about his day. Kei tries to keep his answers to the bare minimum but Kuroo prods him for more and actually succeeds (almost always) that Kei feels his throat dry at the end because of talking more than he is used to.

Talking to Kuroo is different because he doesn’t have to filter his words. He says them as it is and Kuroo gets them, doesn’t filter his words either, and doesn’t think over them too carefully as if wondering if he should say them lest he offends Kei. He says what he thinks, albeit with a little more tact than Kei, but he does so nonetheless and Kei appreciates that. Kei appreciates the same brand of sarcasm and the wit sharp enough to keep up with his. He appreciates that Kuroo doesn’t get offended by his sometimes callous words and expertly deflects them with a flawless use of dry humour and just enough light heartedness. He doesn’t, however, appreciate the lame jokes and the awful puns and the cheesy as fuck one liners because they are _just awful_. He often comments on their horribleness but Kuroo is not deterred and just keeps of dishing them out just to spite him. Sometimes Kei wonders if he keeps a catalogue of them because he just never runs out.

Talking to Kuroo is different because he doesn’t ask him ‘why not go back’ when he tells him the reason why he’s so miserable and angry.

And maybe comparing Kageyama to Kuroo in such terms is unfair. Because, really, Kei should’ve known better than to expect something more than just being handed a half a bottle of vodka and callous words from someone on the same boat as him – confused, miserable and angry at the world and at themselves as they are. Kei should’ve known better than to throw callous words back.

But Kuroo is talking again and Kei realizes he doesn’t feel the need to get inebriated nor do his fingers twitch to reach out and light a cigarette to smoke.

 

* * *

  

He spends the holidays with Kuroo and his friends. When Kuroo asks if he’s going home and Kei shakes his head no, he just stares at Kei and doesn’t pry. Then, he asks Kei if he likes raisins on his macaroni salad and how much eggnog does Kei think they would need?

They celebrate Christmas on Kuroo’s apartment. Kei meets Kozume Kenma, Kuroo’s childhood best friend, and they greet each other quietly. Kuroo and Akaashi cook while he, Bokuto and Kenma are in charge of decorations and setting the table. Kei knows Akaashi can cook but he finds out that Kuroo is _really_ good. Kuroo makes a mean mackerel pike that even Kei has to compliment him on. They play Mario Kart while drinking eggnogs and munching on gingerbreads and cookies. Kenma wins thirteen out of fifteen rounds. Then when it was time for exchanging gifts, Kei awkwardly apologizes for not getting Kenma anything saying he didn’t know what he likes but Kenma just shrugs and says he didn’t get him one either so it’s just fair. Besides, there’s always next year.

Kei starts at the implication. Next year? They plan to invite him to celebrate with him next year, too?

“Next year?”

“Yeah, next year. You’ll celebrate with us then too won’t you, Kei?”

Kenma shoots him a small smile and by the end of the night they’re in first name basis. Upon which Kuroo despairs because _‘It literally took me **weeks** to even get his name and you’re on first names already? **On the night you just met?** ’_

And on New Year’s Eve it is Kuroo who pulls him in a corner of Bokuto and Akaashi’s shared apartment and kisses him as the clock struck twelve. They continue to kiss in that little corner well into the New Year.

 

* * *

  

Kuroo asks him about his brother. Kei shrugs and answers like it’s not a big deal.

“I’ve told you about him.”

Kei’s answer is nonchalant. Casual enough as if it doesn’t make him want to physically flinch still just by the mere mention of him. Kei doesn’t flinch but Kuroo sees the slight twitch on his left eye.

“Hmm. I guess you did. Where did you say he’s working now again?”

He tells Kuroo that Akiteru is a writer for a fairly known sports magazine in Tokyo and a small time sports column back home neither of which publication he can remember the name of. He lives in another part of Tokyo but visits home often. Kei knows because his mother often tells him this over the phone between questions of when he’s coming home and complaints that he never does. Kuroo asks him if his brother seems happy. Kei thinks of the pictures his mother sends him, of her stories over the phone and the messages he receives thrice a week from Akiteru that he never bothers to respond to and says he suppose so.

“What about you? Are you happy for him?”

Kei stops typing in his keyboard. He doesn’t look up at Kuroo and his curious prying eyes, just keeps staring at his three paragraph essay on the _Equilibrium of Noncoplanar Force Systems_ , the cursor blinking up at him in the middle of an unfinished sentence. Kei considers the question.

Is he happy for Akiteru? Is he happy that Akiteru looks a lot more alive nowadays compared to the three years he spent in engineering school? Is he happy that he’s not stuck doing an essay on _Vectors_ and _Coplanar Force Systems_ and _Centroids_ but instead is writing about the details of how Japan’s national volleyball teams are preparing for the 2020 Olympics? Is he happy to know that Akiteru can now go home and spend time with their parents on weekends instead of being too busy computing parameters and crunching numbers for a new office building? Is he happy that his brother doesn’t have to pretend to be something he’s not anymore?

Kei considers all this and arrives at the conclusion that yes, he is happy for Akiteru. He tells Kuroo this much.

But Kuroo pushes and says, “But you still can’t forgive him.”

Kuroo says the damnedest things and sometimes Kei just wants to strangle him.

He ignores the statement and goes back to finishing his essay. He’s at the final paragraph and almost done with the conclusion.

“Have you ever considered switching majors?”

_ Equilibrium is the status of the body when it is subjected to a system of forces. For a system of forces acting on a body the resultant can be determined. By Newton’s second Law of Motion, the body then should move in the direction of the resultant with some acceleration. If the resultant force is equal to zero it implies that the net effect of the system of forces is zero this represents the state of equilibrium. For a system of coplanar concurrent forces for the resultant to be zero, hence ∑ f x i = 0; ∑ f y i = 0. _

“You know, they wouldn’t want you to be miserable, your parents and brother I mean. I don’t think they’d mind if you decide you don’t like engineering after all and switch to, I don’t know, arts or something. I mean, they’re cool with your brother after all. Hey, you like dinosaurs, right? TU has a good Palaeontology department you know? Or Astrophysics! You look like you’d enjoy that kind of nerd stuff.”

 _It is well known that a system of coplanar forces can occur in different configurations. Some of the possibilities are: Coplanar, Collinear, Concurrent; Coplanar and Concurrent; Coplanar and Non Concurrent. To determine the resultant of any system of forces, we adopt the principle of Resolution and Composition. The following figures depict the principles involved_ — and Kuroo needs to shut up right now before he decides to shank him with his ruler.

“There’s no point in going on like this. Although if what you’re doing is punishment for your brother I suppose this is a good revenge plan. When was the last time you talked to him anyway? Does he know you have panic attacks because you’re so stressed over a major you don’t even give a shit about?”

Kuroo’s tone is playful but Kei knows he intended his words to hit him where it hurts. This is something Kei has come to realize about Kuroo. He likes sticking his nose into other people’s business and making them his own. Kei’s not quite sure if Kuroo is aware that sometimes his persistence to drive a point can hurt but it makes Kei want to hurt him back.

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who hasn’t spoken to their father in years. I’m not a court case, Kuroo. I don’t need fixing or solving.”

Kuroo does nothing and just kept his eyes on him. He doesn’t react at Kei’s obvious attempt to hurt him back, a defence mechanism of Kei’s when in situations such as this. His words are stuck and still ringing in Kei’s mind.

_'Although if what you’re doing is punishment for your brother I suppose this is a good revenge plan.'_

He doesn’t want to hurt or punish Akiteru. He’s hurt and confused and angry at him but Kei doesn’t want him to suffer. Kei’s not doing this to hurt him. Akiteru’s his brother. And Kei loves his brother despite it all, despite the hurt and the anger. He’d never—he’s not—He’s—

Kei glares at Kuroo, irritation bubbling just beneath his skin. Why does he have to think about these things? Why can’t he just leave them be? Why does he have to pick at it and make Kei think of things he’s long pushed at the back of his mind? Why does he say things he shouldn’t, ask questions he shouldn’t? Kuroo always says the damnedest things.

Just like Kageyama.

He laments how he can’t shut Kuroo up the way he used to do with Kageyama. And even if he tries, Kageyama is just a simple-minded idiot. Kageyama is easy, Kuroo is another story. While the latter may be an idiot himself to some degree, he’s sly and wouldn’t drop things easily until he decides he’s done with it. And by the looks of things, he’s just starting on Kei’s case.

Wait. On second thought, he can and if he refuses to drop it then Kei will just have to shut him up better won’t he.

Kei shuts his laptop, making sure he saved his work, before crawling to where Kuroo is sprawled on the couch adjacent him. He crawls on top of Kuroo and straddles him, smirks when the latter stares at him with slightly wide eyes as the blonde traps him under him before Kei leans down for a kiss.

Kuroo pushes him away when Kei has managed to draw a soft moan from him.

“I know what you’re doing. Don’t think I’ll let this go just because—“

“God. Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

“More than once occasion, ye—mmphhff!“

There isn’t much talking after that, from him or from Kuroo, nor did he finish his essay. But he welcomes the distraction anyway as they keep Kuroo’s words and his thoughts at bay.

 

* * *

 

 Kuroo asks why he always gets this look whenever they get coffee.

Kei scowls at him and tells him he doesn’t make a look, it’s just how his face is. Kuroo shoots him a look and they had a stare down before Kuroo utters “Tsukishima” in a tone that Kei has never heard him use. Couple with Kuroo saying his name in full, which he rarely does, Kei sighs and caves in.

He tells him about this boy who used to bring him cold coffee on the rooftop on bad days and on Friday nights when it gets really bad. He tells Kuroo how he brings his own contribution in the form of cheap alcohol in a flask and then they’d sip their coffee laced with vodka in silence. Sometimes they talk, most of the time they don’t. The company is welcomed but it is never spoken aloud.

And then Kuroo asks, “Was he someone special? A boyfriend?”

There was something in Kuroo’s tone when he said the latter but Kei let it slip, denial spilling from his lips.

“Oh, God no.”

“A friend then.”

And Kei stops because were Kageyama and him friends? What counts as friendship? This with Kuroo maybe—probably, he thinks. And with Akaashi and Bokuto. And he thinks he remembers how it was like having a best friend a long time ago, in a place he hasn’t been to in awhile, remembers staring at freckles and talking about constellations and useless dinosaur facts.

He and Kageyama didn’t hang out after class. They didn’t study in the campus libraries or have lunch or dinner together. They didn’t get shit faced drunk at parties and drag each other up to their apartments to spend the night because they’re too wasted to get home. Kageyama didn’t rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up the contents of his whole stomach on the toilet after a night of drinking and Kei didn’t hand him water and aspirin to get rid of his hang over. Kageyama didn’t worry about his smoking habits and Kei didn’t worry about his tendency to lie on the cold pavement on chilly mornings with nothing but a tracksuit. They didn’t spend the holidays together or talk about constellations and useless dinosaur facts and they didn’t go out for coffees.

Instead, Kageyama brings him stale coffee on the rooftop on bad days and on Friday nights when it gets really bad. Kei has his own contribution of cheap alcohol in a flask that he’d generously pour on their cup, and then they’d sip their coffee laced with vodka in silence. Sometimes they talk, most of the time they don’t. And occasionally they like to fool around. Chapped lips on his own electrifying, the feeling of warm hands and fingertips ghosting on his skin lingering.  The company is welcome but it is never spoken aloud. If that makes them friends Kei is still not sure so instead he shrugs.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, if you guys got wasted together a lot and he actually made you talk without either of you trying to throw each other off the roof I think you are.”

Kei thinks about this as he swirls his cup and takes another tentative sip. It’s just the right temperature and tastes really great, three shots of cream and two sugar cubes just the way he likes it, but Kei still thinks it’s missing something and— _God_ , he hopes he ruined coffee for Kageyama as much as he did to Kei.

“Maybe.”

He takes another sip and smiles against the rim of his cup.

 

* * *

 

At one point, Kuroo asks him if he wants to live with him.

His apartment is big enough and he really wouldn’t mind a roommate. There’s a spare bedroom that he really only uses for storage or for when someone is too wasted and needs somewhere to crash. They could fix it up and Kei could stay there. He says he’s gonna be really busy next semester and would need to cut some hours off work. He could use someone to share the rent with. The unspoken words are loud and clear even if Kuroo’s tone is casual and light and is under the guise that they will only be roommates.

Kei has been in Kuroo’s apartment enough times to know that the extra room is really just for storage. Even if they do manage to fix it up, not even a small bed could fit in. He knows where it will all end up—him and Kuroo sharing his room and laying side by side on his double bed.

If Kei is being honest, it is tempting. It’s a chance to get out of where he is now and maybe that’s what he needs. And the thought of waking up to Kuroo’s atrocious bed hair every morning and his smirk being the last thing Kei will see before going to bed is absolutely tempting. For a moment, Kei allows himself to think of breakfast in the early mornings and warm dinners, of placing his shoes beside another pair, an answering greeting of “Welcome back!” to his mumble of “I’m home” and the image of Kuroo’s warm smile at the end of the hallway.

But Kei declines because he’s resolved to get out of his mess on his own and he doesn’t want to get into something more with Kuroo—yet. At least not in his current state.

Kuroo just smiles at him and nods, tells him to take his time and the offer will always be open whenever he’s ready.

 

* * *

   

> _“I’ve met someone.” Kei says his eyes watching the swirling liquid in his cup as his fingers moves it in circles._
> 
> _“Yeah?”_
> 
> _He thinks of the boy he met at the library with the most ridiculous bed hair he’s ever seen. Pre-law, he said, sounding half like it’s the bane of his existence and half like there’s nothing else he’d rather do. He sits with Kei every time he catches him in the library and occasionally buys him lunch and reminds him to not smoke a whole pack in one sitting. He also annoys the hell out of him and sometimes Kei is torn between wanting to set him or himself on fire but he smiles at Kei and thinks he’s hilarious and doesn’t take offense to the things that come out of Kei’s mouth._
> 
> _“He makes things easier—tolerable.”_
> 
> _Kageyama hums, closes his eyes, a ghost of an almost smile on his face._

 

* * *

 

The day after Kei and Kageyama talked, Kuroo is waiting outside the library with two cups of steaming coffee.

He shoots Kei a smile as the younger walks towards him and accepts the cup gratefully.

“Okay?”

Kei stares at Kuroo, at the knowing look in his eyes and the smile on his lips, genuine and like he’s happy for Kei for something. He gets the feeling that Kuroo knows. Knows that he’s been to talk with Kageyama, knows that he’s the boy who used to bring Kei cold coffees and get wasted with, and knows that Kageyama used to be the one who spends bad nights with Kei. He thinks Kuroo has always known and thinks it’s hilarious how he probably thought at one point that, heaven forbid, Kageyama and Kei were together.

(God, he couldn’t even think about it without wanting to gag.)

“Yeah.” Kei says and smiles against the rim of his cup. “Yeah.”

Kei tells Kuroo snippets of their conversation and the latter groans and confirms what Kageyama said about volleyball training extending well until the actual start of the holidays. The bespectacled boy chuckles as Kuroo pouts because _‘you’re so mean, Tsukki, laughing at my misery.’_ Kei tells him of his plans to go home and maybe do some thinking and Kuroo snorts and says, “You think too much, kid.”

_'You’re already always thinking, Tsukishima.'_

Kageyama’s words echoes in Kei’s head and, not for the first time, marvels at how uncannily similar he and Kuroo could be at times.

“Well, some of us have to, to balance out those who don’t.”

“Are you trying to imply something, Tsukki? Hmm?”

Well, sometimes. Kageyama can't possibly hold this kind of banter with him and he should just really stop comparing him to Kuroo shouldn't he?

He tells Kuroo when he’s buying his ticket and Kuroo offers to go with him. Kei declines and says he can go by his own but Kuroo never listens to him and is waiting by the bus stop on the day Kei said he was going to the ticket office.

 

* * *

 

 Kei leaves a day after the start of the semestral break and Kuroo goes to see him off.

It started snowing a week before the semester ended and Kei burrows his face further under his scarf. He stuffs his hands deeper in his coat pockets and hunches his shoulder as he sits in the platform and waits for his train. Beside him, Kuroo looks like a miserable bundle of fabric. He always did say he hated the cold and was never really good with dealing with it. Kei would’ve laughed if it wasn’t such a pathetic sight.

Kuroo is wrapped in probably the thickest coat he owns atop of what Kei is sure are multiple shirts and most likely a thick sweater—and is that a hoodie underneath there too? His hands are covered by two pairs of gloves, his scarf is wound tight around his neck as he burrows half of his face in it and he has on ear muffs which made his hair stand on even funnier angles. His cheeks and nose are red and his brows are furrowed and Kei could faintly hear him muttering about how much he hates the cold.

And God help him, Kei actually finds it endearing.

“You didn’t have to come and see me off you know.”

Kuroo pauses in his mutterings and sighs.

“Yeah, but I want to.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Kuroo replies like it’s a given that he’d see Kei off even if there’s a blizzard and even if it means freezing his ass off.

Kei will never admit it but the thought makes him incredibly warm inside it’s disgusting. He hopes Kuroo knows that he’s is not just grateful for Kuroo seeing him off. He hopes Kuroo knows he’s grateful for everything he’s done for him for the past months—everything he didn’t have to but did anyway. A part of him wants to let Kuroo know this, preferably without embarrassing himself in the process, but Kei has never been good at words. So instead he closes the remaining distance between them on the bench and moves to sit side by side Kuroo, their shoulders pressed against each other and their knees touching. Kei feels Kuroo lean on him a little, probably trying to leech off body heat, and sighs.

When his train arrives, Kei doesn’t stand up to board immediately. He lets the other passengers board first and watches as the crowd hurrying to get in gradually disperse. Kuroo nudges him in silent question but Kei just shrugs. He still has ten more minutes before the train leaves and he’d rather sit here still than spend it sitting beside some stranger.

“You’re gonna miss your train if you don’t board soon.”

“It’s a couple of steps away, Kuroo-san. I’ll be fine.”

“Is this your roundabout way of saying you don’t want to leave me and that you’re gonna miss me?”

“Sure, Kuroo-san.”

Kei doesn’t fight it even when he knows Kuroo is smirking smugly under his scarf because maybe it is and maybe he will.

Kuroo walks him to the doors of the train five minutes before it leaves. There are still people hurrying to board and Kuroo takes this chance to slightly pull down Kei’s scarf and lean in for a kiss.

It’s gentle and unlike their usual kisses. The lack of urgency is striking. It’s soft and chaste, almost sweet in its gentleness and far too short for Kei’s liking. He’s too stunned to think about whether people are staring at the ridiculous picture they are surely making—two six feet college boys standing awkwardly by the doors of the train stealing last minute kisses—too stunned to even fully comprehend what is happening. He thinks it’s probably the most intimate kiss they’ve ever shared and Kei is floored by how fragile and delicate it feels.

Kei’s instinct is screaming at him to lean in for another but before he can act on these instincts, Kuroo pulls away and steps out of his space. He smiles the smile that Kei likes, the one that reaches his eyes and shows the dimple on his left cheek, the red on his face not just due to the cold alone.

He forgets to breathe for a second at the sight.

“I’ll see you after break.”

Kei boards the train face warm and lips still tingling. He leans back on his seat as the train moves; he closes his eyes and sees Kuroo’s smiling face. The picture it makes is nice and he allows himself a smile.

And for the first time in a very long time, Kei breathes easy and knows that he’ll be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I'm not and engineering major. The excerpts of Kei's essay is from Unit IV: Coplanar Non-Concurrent Force Systems of Professor G. Ravi's book. I really have no idea about engineering except it's hella hard and I wouldn't survive a single hour on the most basic of lectures about it.
> 
> Hello! I'm glad you made it this far. I have other works lined up for this series so please keep posted. Your kudos, bookmarks and comments mean a lot to me and I really appreciate them. Thank you very much for reading.
> 
> You can check out my other works [here](http://randomprose.tumblr.com/tagged/writing) and [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1592826/proserandom)

**Author's Note:**

> There was a point in my life where I consumed purely crackers and iced coffee for lunch. Didn't smoke though so that's a good thing.
> 
> Second installment of this series! I have at least 3 more lined up. Mostly one-shots but there is one multi-chap on the works. 
> 
> You can check out my other works [here](http://randomprose.tumblr.com/tagged/writing) and [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1592826/proserandom)
> 
> Hit me up at [Tumblr](https://www.randomprose.tumblr.com)!


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